Jambo Mwalimu
December 9
Returning from our weekend holiday in Nairobi was bittersweet. Ng'aura has become a home to us and the Kinyanjuis have become our family but we were sad to leave behind the hot showers, cold drinks, and other modern conveinences that we used to take for granted. The children of Ol' Ng'aura primary school were finishing up their final exams and the school was preparing to close for the holidays. Although we would have a break from our work at the special unit, another daunting task lay ahead. It was harvesting time, and we enthusiastically, and somewhat foolishly, volunteered to help. Each morning we woke up, ate breakfast and headed to the shamba (garden). The maize was all ready cut and lay in giant piles waiting to be husked. The work started out easy enough, grab a stalk, rip off the maize, husk it and throw it in a sack. Unfortunately, our hands are not callused by years of hard work like everyone elses. After about two hours of husking we found our hands aching and slightly bloody, the back of our necks sunburned, and our arms red with corn rash. Despite the pitfalls of harvesting by hand we continued to help as much as we could each day until the maize was harvested. We could not, however, compete with the tiny women who were carrying 100+ lb bags of maize to the store. It took two of us to carry one bag, and we struggled the entire way. At least we could supply some comic relief.